1988 to 2017
by btvshond
Summary: Spanning from 1988 to 2017, each chapter is a standalone with a slight twist on the actual events. Of Lily’s eyes, Snape’s love and Hermione’s entrance. DH spoilers. Chapter 4: Green for rebirth, a fitting colour in my condition.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a series of chapters spanning over the years from 1988 to that, ahem, epilogue of 2017. Each chapter adds a slight twist on the actual events in the books. Each chapter is a standalone and can be read on its own. However, I will attempt to keep a common theme throughout the series. Of Lily's eyes, of Snape's love, and of Hermione's entrance. Hopefully, I will be able to show a progression of Snape's feelings.

Spoilers for Deathly Hallows included. All Harry Potter characters created, and some killed, by J K Rowling.

* * *

15 November 2007: 

Thank you for all the reviews. Much appreciated. The second chapter will be posted tomorrow, 16 November, after editing. But, first, some clarifications.

To excessivelyperky: Yes, you're right. This is AU and so will the other chapters. I'm trying to have this series follow through the events in the books, but with a plausible twist in them.

To Rock Royalty: I'm sorry for not being clear above. As you see at the end of this chapter, Snape never saw Hermione again in this version of events. I'm sorry to disappoint you because the next chapter won't be on about Hermione entering Hogwarts. Shame. But! Hopefully, you will still like it, and there will be more interaction between Snape and Hermione as the series progresses. If I can stop Snape from being too sarcastic and impervious. Let me just call them... "Oy, no more mean remarks at Hermione, Severus! What, Hermione? Oh, you can handle him? Er. Good."

To duj: Because he is too remarkable to be a mere Smith. ;-)

To Laurenke1: Yup, you are the first reviewer. Thank you.

To velvetglove: Work happened.

To shetlandlace: Glad you found 9-year-old Hermione perfect. If Snape's any nicer, he'll hex me.

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Chapter 1 

**1988**

London, Snape concluded bitterly, was nothing but a web of confusion and litter and, above all, noise. The traffic on the roads and the sheer volume of pedestrians grated on his nerves. He had been to London on several occasions, and never enjoyed his time there. However, that owed more to the fact that his duties to the Order took him to the busy spots of London. Snape wondered if he had Dumbledore's twisted humour to thank. For an anti-social person such as he was, Snape was prepared to hex anyone who knocked into him.

His family home, which was in the more unsavory parts of Muggle society and which he still returned to every summer although he had every reason not to, had not helped improve his opinion of Muggles.

Hence, it was an unexpected and pleasant change for Snape when he found himself in Regent's Park. Arthur Weasley had arranged to meet him here and, certainly, his recommendation of a meeting place was much better than Dumbledore's. Although there were quite a lot of people in the park as well, the landscape was pleasing and it was not as chaotic as it was in the streets.

Noting that he was early and that Weasley would likely be late due to distractions concerning Muggle contraptions, Snape settled himself comfortably on a bench, only to realise there was a book on it too. Holding it up, he read the title: "Psmith in the City" by P.G. Wodehouse. Turning to the back of the book, Snape read the synopsis, and found it interesting. Wondering whom the book belonged to, he looked around but saw no one nearby.

Well, why not? he thought. He had nothing better to do and Muggle books were the exception to his general dislike for all things Muggle. Oddly, witches and wizards never had a knack for writing fiction, and were not particularly talented in other fields of art either. That did not stop Dumbledore from appreciating chamber music, or Muggleborns from introducing plays into Hogwarts. As Snape read the book, he became oblivious to his surroundings, until a voice close to him spoke up.

"Please, sir, I believe that's my book you're reading."

Snape looked up to see a pair of brown eyes staring back at him. This Muggle appeared brighter than most Muggles. What was worse, she was only a child. Her exceptionally bushy hair only served to dwarf her petite face. Under normal circumstances, Snape would give a little growl to worry the child, return her book and they would have parted ways. But this one made him uneasy. He realised that the cause of his uneasiness was the passive expression on her face. Without his reputation preceding him as it did in the wizarding world, the girl showed none of the emotions which Snape normally instilled in people. There was no fear, no sympathy, no condemnation, no loathing, no hate, no cruelty, no scorn, no pity, no resentment… There was nothing. Even Lily, with her brilliant, green eyes, had never looked at him with such a non-judgmental look before.

Snape suppressed the pain which nearly overwhelmed him.

Focussing his attention on the girl, Snape could not find any excuse to be brusque.

"Er," he said intelligently.

"There's a bookmark inside the book, sir," the girl said helpfully. "It has a picture of a tabby cat on it."

Snape flipped through the pages and saw that there was indeed a bookmark. On it, someone had written neatly, "Hermione Granger." He looked at the child again.

"Hermione Granger," he practised saying the name out loud. "That is your name, I take it?"

The girl nodded gratefully, "Yes, sir. Not many people pronounce it correctly the first time."

"Far be it for me to criticise them. It is an unusual name." An unusual name for an unusual child, Snape thought, and continued, "Well, Miss Granger, I confess. I found this book here without its owner. And you convince me that it is yours. But I do not think a child like you can read something like this."

She tilted her head to a side and said reflectively, "My mother always says that I'm a bit like Matilda."

"And who is Matilda?" Snape was not only surprised that he was enjoying his conversation with Hermione, but was also uncharacteristically patient with her.

"She's a fictional character, written by Mr. Ronald Dahl, and she knows how to read at the age of four. I'm not so clever. I only learnt how to read properly at six."

He could tell that she liked rattling off whatever knowledge she had. She had been nervous at first, but when he asked her about Matilda, she brightened and answered confidently.

"How old are you, Miss Granger?"

"I'm turning nine this week…" Hermione hesitated, and said solemnly, "I don't know your name, sir."

Snape smirked, "You may address me as Professor Snape."

He watched as Hermione pondered over this new information, "Do you teach in London, Professor Snape?"

"Thank Merlin, no. I teach in Scotland." Snape laughed, and stopped abruptly. It was hardly a feat for someone to make him smirk, or sneer, or even smile in sadistic glee. They were signs that someone was about to be in deep trouble. But to make him laugh for a moment without a care in the world… This child was not to be underestimated.

Hermione distracted him again, "What do you teach in Scotland?"

Snape immediately became guarded. Despite being an expert liar, he was reluctant to lie to her. "It is a subject that requires great precision, care and skill."

He was amused to see her frown in concentration. When she asked if it was dentistry, Snape burst out laughing for the second time of the day.

"Dentistry!" Snape shook his head, "What a dreary subject it is compared to mine!"

Hermione frowned harder and remonstrated, "My parents are dentists, Professor Snape. And dentistry is not dreary at all."

"Ah, that explains it." Snape composed himself, "My apologies Miss Granger. I didn't mean to be rude."

"I'm sorry, mister. Is my daughter bothering you?"

Snape turned his head to find a not unattractive woman walking in their direction. He could see the resemblance between mother and daughter.

In reply to Mrs. Granger's question, Snape said, "No, madam. I daresay it's the other way around. For I have her book and have not yet returned it to her after keeping her here for so long. Not to mention that I've unconsciously offended her."

He smiled, and handed the book to Hermione, who took it without comment but kept looking at him with those brown eyes. He liked the warmth and the inquisitiveness in them.

"Well, good-bye Miss Granger."

As both mother and daughter walked away, Snape noticed Hermione turn her head back at him. He raised his eyebrows quizzically when Hermione stopped her mother and exchanged a few hurried words with her. He leaned forward when the girl ran back to him.

"Professor Snape. Did you like the book?"

Snape blinked. He had been preoccupied with their conversation that he had forgotten about the book which was responsible for their meeting. Now that she asked, he did like it. Its light humour and sly wit suited him. "Yes, rather."

"Then you can have it," Hermione said and placed it in his hands.

Snape, startled, had not much time to think. "This is very generous of you, Miss Granger. Thank you. But I've nothing to give in return." He could surreptitiously conjure something up or transfigure something into something else but such items were not permanent. What would Hermione say if she saw the gift disappear or turn back into a pebble in front of her eyes?

"That's all right, professor. I'm glad you like the book." For the first time, Hermione smiled back at him, and was about to walk away to join her mother.

"No, wait," Snape said. Inspired, he took out his quill and scribbled on the bookmark, "_From a grateful reader who had no right to laugh at dentists, Severus Snape_". He handed the bookmark back to her, and when he saw her staring at his black quill, he said sardonically, "You use pens, don't you?" He handed his quill to her, "I suppose this is an acceptable exchange?"

Hermione took both bookmark and quill, and smiled, "Thank you. It is very pretty."

Soon, Snape lost sight of Hermione and her mother as they rounded a corner.

"Severus! Severus. So sorry to have kept you waiting." Arthur Weasley greeted jovially after a while and sat down beside Snape.

"That's all right. I expected you to be later," Snape replied.

"It's quite a lovely spot, isn't it? There's an Open Air Theatre here, we should take a look at it. I hear there's a rehearsal going on."

"How do you know so much about this place?" Snape asked. After all, whatever enthusiasm Weasley had for all things Muggle, it did not translate into actual knowledge. The older wizard always lamented about the inadequacy of Muggle Studies in his schooldays.

"Dumbledore does and he said that this is a good place to relax."

Ah, Dumbledore strikes again. Then again, Snape mused, but for Dumbledore's suggestion, he would not have met Hermione Granger.

He never saw her again, but the book on his table served as a souvenir of his encounter with the remarkable Muggle child. Years later, with the second rising of Voldemort, when the war became too dark and cold, and when even the reason to protect Lily's son seemed hollow, he would remember his book, and he would remember her and what the fight was for.


	2. Chapter 2

To amr: You're right. In Chapter 1 of this AU, Hermione is not magical, and Snape does not see her again. So, I guess the Harry Potter universe in this AU continues without Hermione. However, in this series, the chapters are standalone and not related to each other except perhaps in theme and progression. Hopefully, you and everyone reading this will like it.

Thank you all again for reading and reviewing.

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Chapter 2

**1994**

"Damn, damn, damn, damndamndamn." Snape muttered and cursed freely. His head was pounding, his clothes were filthy with dust and mud, and his arm was aching. In short, Snape was seething in anger.

He berated himself for the fifty-eighth time (it felt like that number, even though he had just regained consciousness) for allowing himself to be so easily disarmed by three idiotic Gryffindors with a spell he had indirectly taught them. It was laughable and utterly humiliating for him. He was a Death-Eater. Pride was at stake here. He felt the glares of former Heads of Slytherin bore down at him and Salazar Slytherin himself turn in his grave. Pity the Dark Lord was not in his own grave as well. Now that, Snape argued, he would gladly have Potter knock him unconscious thrice over to see happen. He must be losing his touch, and more.

As Snape sat up straight, he was already thinking of all sorts of punishment he would give the Gryffindors. For a gleeful moment, he thought of Potter being expelled from Hogwarts at last. But his instincts finally rang warning bells and he looked about him. He was already outside the Shrieking Shack. Ronald Weasley, he saw, was lying on the ground. But the others were nowhere in sight.

Snape shivered and his head turned in the direction of the woods when he heard the screams. Even from here, he could feel the chill that he knew came from Dementors. Alarmed, he picked himself off the ground and cast several spells including a protection over Weasley before speeding towards the direction of the screams. For a while, Snape froze at the sight before him.

* * *

"Harry!" Hermione cried desperately when she saw a Dementor closing in on her friend. How could they have forgotten about the Dementors in Hogwarts? How could they, indeed, when a werewolf was attacking them before? Now, she, Harry, and Sirius were trapped in an impossible situation. Soon the Dementor would suck Harry's soul out. Soon it'd go to Sirius, who remained on the ground, unconscious. Soon it'd suck Sirius's soul out too. 

I'm the only one left, Hermione thought in a panic, I'm the only one left to save them.

She tried and tried casting a Patronus, but what was the use when Harry, who had so much more practice than she had, had failed? Already, the Dementors were affecting Hermione emotionally with their presence. Harry had described the foul and decay he felt from the Dementors, but, of course, you needed to experience it to know the truth. It was, as had been said, as though all the happiness was taken away and only despair existed in the world. Hermione started sobbing.

We're going to die, Hermione thought, and she grew hysterical and believed she was going mad. Soon it'd suck my soul out. What about Ron? Professor Lupin? Snape?

We're going to die, we're going to die, we're going to die…

No, this is worse than death.

And when Hermione screamed a scream she did not hear as a Dementor approached her, it was Snape, standing nearby, who thought he was hearing Lily's voice.

Lily, betrayed and helpless, when the Dark Lord, no less horrible than a Dementor, had found her.

Because of him.

Hermione shielded herself from the approaching Dementor, and clung on to a shred of courage not to give up without some resistance. She widened her eyes in surprise when a burst of light drove that Dementor away. Harry? In front of her, she could barely make out Harry collapsing onto the ground while his attacker left hurriedly. Trembling, she turned to see the source.

"Professor…" was all she could utter weakly. _We attacked a teacher! _She remembered herself hysterically saying.

"What have you troublemakers gotten yourselves into?" Although the biting tone was Snape's, his face was paler than usual, and he looked particularly grim, drained even. He watched the Dementors warily as he kept them at bay with his Patronus, which was leaping about gently, leaving a trail of dazzling silver-white light behind her.

"Professors, it wasn't us… They came…" Hermione looked at the Dementors nervously. They were still hovering around, and she asked naively, "Aren't you going to drive them away?"

She could sense that Snape was careful not to react. When he looked at her, his expression was unreadable.

"I cannot cast a Patronus that'll chase away all of them. They're too many. I'm afraid, Miss Granger, I will not be the knight in shining armour."

He spoke flippantly and with a great deal of bravado.

Although alarmed, Hermione's incredulity got the better of her. "Then why…?"

Snape said briskly, "The Dementors can kiss Black for all I care. But I have to turn you and Potter in. After breaking all those rules in Hogwarts. As I said, it's expulsion for you lot."

Hermione did not know whether to laugh or cry at that. It was so typical of Snape to want to expel Harry, even in the direst situation. She found it assuring.

"I sent a signal to the castle. They'll come for us."

It was his way of telling her not to worry. But Hermione knew that help might not come in time. It dawned on her that Snape was not only protecting those he hated, but was also risking his own life doing it. This chivalry was wholly unexpected. Someone like Snape should think his own behaviour irrational. But then, what did they know about him?

Snape's Patronus, Hermione noticed, was a beautiful doe, a creature Hermione would not associate with Snape either. All too soon, however, the doe began to weaken, and the Dementors, always threatening, were closing in again. But if she kept looking at Snape, standing tall over them and face resolute, Hermione felt that she would not be frightened.

As for Snape, he was becoming increasingly worried and… annoyed, very annoyed, that even before they defeated the Dark Lord, they would succumb to a bunch of soul-sucking monsters. But Granger was looking at him with such wide-eyed confidence that, although it unsettled him, he urged his Patronus to protect them.

Both of them did not realise that each was giving the other strength in a cycle of mutual encouragement.

Just then, another light, more blinding and more expansive, came forth and succeeded in driving the Dementors away.

Snape was in awe at the sheer intensity of the Patronus. Grudgingly, he recognised that there was another witch or wizard more powerful than he was nearby. Trying to look for him, or her, Snape spied a shadowy figure out in the forest.

After the Dementors were gone, the shadowy figure left too.

It was then that Hermione fainted, and Snape caught her easily. He looked at the three unconscious figures in front of him, and sighed.

* * *

Hermione never quite understood why Snape did what he had done. In a frenzy of activity that had followed, what with the Time-Turner incident and Snape's outburst (to put it very, very, very mildly) at Sirius's escape, Hermione knew not to upset Snape further. Worse, Snape became more vindictive towards her and the boys, and sometimes Hermione wondered if the whole part where Snape had tried to save them was her hallucination. Other times, the memory was so clear that Hermione concluded that it had to be real. She continued defending Snape with more conviction than ever because, whilst she had defended Snape previously because Dumbledore believed him, Hermione's belief became her own now. 

Snape, on his part, did not mention about that particular incident and preferred to blame Potter and Granger for Black's escape. Dumbledore would try to bring the matter up, but Snape remained reticent. Sometimes, Snape thought that he should have left the students to the Dementors and saved himself the embarrassment. Other times, he recalled his failure towards Lily and, loathe as he was to admit, his odd reluctance not to disappoint Granger, which he decided not to analyse too much. He simply resigned himself to his conflicting principles of Slytherin self-preservation and foolhardy desire to save as many lives as he had destroyed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**1994**

"I see no difference," came Snape's cold response.

Distraught, Hermione involuntarily let out a whimper. She turned abruptly, hoping that no one had seen the tears springing out of her eyes at the hurtful remark regarding her elongating teeth. With every intention to escape Snape's mocking eyes and Slytherin girls' unkind giggles, Hermione started to flee. She could hear Harry's and Ron's indignant shouts, but she could not bother about them at the moment.

Nor, apparently, could Snape.

"Did I say that you could leave, Miss Granger?" Snape said softly, his voice managing to reach her ears and prompt her to stop in her tracks.

What do I care, it's my teeth, not his! Hermione fumed and despaired at the same time, imagining her teeth growing longer and longer until they reached the ground. What's the worst he can do? Detention? Disemboweling frogs? Let him deduct all the points he wants. Just run, just pretend you didn't hear him and keep on running to the Hos—

"You will come back here this instance, Miss Granger!"

This time, Snape's voice cracked with the full weight of his authority and reverberated along the corridor such that Hermione flinched as though an invisible force was attacking her. She reluctantly turned back and stared at Snape in disbelief. It was true that Snape had never favoured her and had ridiculed, but she did not remember him being this cruel.

Snape was looking at her unsympathetically, and Hermione sighed. Bowing her head in defeat, face flushed with humiliation, and using both hands to cover her teeth, she walked back to the crowd.

"As I said," Snape spoke in a brittle tone, nonplussed and obviously put off by her lack of obedience. "I don't see any difference. What is the fuss about?"

The git, the git! Hermione's mind screamed Ron's favourite description of Snape.

She opened her mouth, and wanted to rebel against him as she had done last year. Then, she noticed the curious looks on the students' faces. Slowly, she realised that she was not holding onto her teeth but clutching at her robes. Stunned, she brought her right hand up to her mouth and realised that her teeth were back to normal. It was as if the extra-long teeth had not existed in the first place. One moment, she was hiding them from everyone's sight. The next moment, they disappeared without a trace.

Stealing a glance at Harry and Ron, Hermione saw that they looked equally bewildered. Malfoy himself was trying to conceal his incomprehension and disappointment. Then Harry and Ron became both intimidated and defiant when Snape turned on them. Hermione thought morosely that, yes, of course Snape would have listened to every insult they had hurled at him.

"Let's see," Snape said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and detention each for Potter and Weasley. As for you, Miss Granger," he looked at her carefully, "I trust that you have recovered from whatever girlish fit you were throwing. I should say that I had not known you to be so sensitive. Tears are for the weak. Now get inside, all of you, or it'll be a week of detention."

The students quickly went into class without another word, although Malfoy still tried to annoy Harry by pressing his badge so that the words "POTTER STINKS" flashed across the room.

Ron managed to whisper to Hermione before they sat down at their tables, "How did you do it?"

Hermione shook her head. Ron took it to mean that she did not want to talk now, when she actually meant that she did not know what had happened.

Hermione was subdued during the class and did not put up her hand to answer any question. She did not pay attention to how Ron had again avoided Harry and was sitting beside Dean and Seamus. There was something strange about the whole business. Her teeth would not revert to their normal size on their own. After Harry left the class with Colin, Snape continued teaching in his unpleasant fashion. As he lifted his wand to point at the blackboard to have general instructions written down, Hermione's head snapped back in a jolt. The wand was already in his hand. Furiously thinking back, Hermione remembered that the wand was already in Snape's hand when they were returning to the classroom. That was not his usual style. He usually kept it in his pockets and took it out when he needed it.

When Snape came into eye contact with Hermione, he looked away.

Could he have…? Hermione shook her head. It was not like Snape to concern himself with Gryffindors. And he was more likely to help Goyle than Hermione. Instead, Goyle was sent to the Hospital Wing, and she was here. But supposing Snape did things that no one knew…

Who else could have countered the spell and in the process, intentionally or not, salvaged her pride? Not Harry and Ron, who were clueless, and certainly not the Slytherins…

Curiousity sparked, Hermione had to get to the bottom of the mystery.

After class ended, Hermione gestured for Ron to leave first and, with her Gryffindor strength, walked to Snape's table.

Snape pretended not to notice her and continued to scribble on his parchment.

"Professor," Hermione began saying.

When Snape looked up, scowling, their eyes locked with each other's. Snape had seemed about to say something, but, caught by Hermione's stare, the words seemed to freeze at the tip of his tongue. His scowl slowly disappeared. For several moments, both of them did not speak.

It was the first time she was standing close to him at eye level. Most times, he gave the impression of towering over them, all sneers and sarcasm. His eyes she knew were black and always glittering with malice. On closer inspection, Hermione noticed their depths, and how they actually danced in the light. She never understood authors who wrote of conflicting emotions in someone's eyes, until she examined his. There were arrogance and coldness, but there was also wistfulness, pain, and sorrow. There was someone there who she did not know.

Strangely pleased with her discovery, Hermione said, "About the incident just…"

As soon as she spoke, it was as though the spell broke and Snape immediately recovered. Cutting her off, he remarked casually.

"Do you know that your eyes are amber in a certain light, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. Thrown off-guard, she could only murmur her reply in the negative.

"Hm, so there are things that the know-it-all doesn't know. You will be late for your dinner if you do not leave this instant."

"Er, yes, Professor," Hermione said, still flustered. She swung her books around her shoulder and hurried out of the classroom. Once outside, she collected herself.

Hermione realised belatedly that Snape might have said that to shock her into silence and take the opportunity to dismiss her. Was it to interrupt her intended plan to find out whether he had really helped her? Well, she was determined to find out no matter what. Just, not now, she had to prepare herself against his Slytherin trickery.

In any case…

"Are my eyes really amber?" she spoke into the air, before shaking her head and heading to the Great Hall.

Back inside the classroom, Snape smirked.

But the amusement was only momentary.

Snape sighed and pushed away his parchment. What was it with him and eyes? Lately, he had to admit he was getting preoccupied with Hermione's. Her helplessness when her teeth lengthened reminded him of Lily. There were many things about Hermione that reminded him of Lily. Brave, outspoken, so damnably intelligent that even Slughorn approved of her. Yet, because they were both Muggleborns, they were still despised and seen to be a lesser creature even when they were better witches than many purebloods.

The dull ache made itself known whenever he thought of Lily. But even time seemed to be washing it away. Sometimes, he woke up in shock at night, despairing that he was forgetting what Lily looked like. He could not keep any picture of her with him, knowing that the risk was too high. He could not keep going to the library to look at yearbooks. As time passed, memories blurred. Lily came to mind when he saw Hermione. Hermione came to mind when he remembered Lily. He could not distinguish the difference.

There was Harry Potter to remind him of Lily's eyes. Seen in another's face, Snape hated the idea at first. He still did. There were warmth and kindness in those eyes once when they saw him, a long time ago. Now there were only suspicion and disgust.

Much like Lily's really, towards the end of their school-years in Hogwarts…

Instead, the warmth and kindness now came from another's, and he found himself drawn to them.

He could not actually like Hermione, Harry's partner-in-mischief and an insufferable Gryffindor. No, deep down, he knew he was drawn for completely selfish reasons. He had not given up his desire to have someone who could accept and respect him.

Severus Snape believed that wholeheartedly.


	4. Chapter 4 Part I

A/N: This chapter turned out to be monster. I am cutting it up into parts.

Again, thanks for the reviews. This chapter is dedicated to rosehiptea.

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Chapter 4: Part I 

**1995**

"Miss Granger? Ah, good, you're alone." Dumbledore's head appeared above the fire in Hermione's bedroom at Sirius's house at Number 12, Grimmauld Place. "Can you come down please." With that, Dumbledore cut off communication, and left Hermione no chance to refuse his order.

Hermione sighed. She had planned on enjoying a peaceful night reading a thesis written by one of the forerunners in Charms. She felt she deserved it, after she and Ron slogged through Sirius's house and decontaminated it as much as they could. But she also knew that Dumbledore would not order her about unless the matter was pressing and she was not one to shirk from her duties.

Walking out into the hallway and down the stairs, Hermione saw Dumbledore waiting for her at the bottom, his violet jacket a sharp, disorienting contrast to the greyness of Sirius's house. Dumbledore was smiling, but the smile was weary, and Hermione threw him a concerned look, which was lost on him. Dumbledore led her to a disused room near the kitchen, and Hermione saw McGonagall standing next to a man who was lying on a couch, seemingly unconscious.

"Are you sure this is wise, Albus?" McGonagall started, but Dumbledore waved her into silence.

"You know there is no place safer. Miss Granger," Dumbledore turned to face Hermione. Seeing Hermione's worried face, he smiled.

"Don't look so anxious my dear. I apologise if we have not explained matters."

Behind him, McGonagall rolled her eyes, "You haven't told her? Albus, you like your secrets too much. There is no danger, Miss Granger. We… Headmaster Dumbledore only wishes that you help watch this man for the night." A frown creased McGonagall's forehead as she looked at the stranger. She said to Dumbledore, "I still think…"

"Minerva, you have tired yourself the last two days helping him and bringing him to St. Mungo's. The members of the Order have their own tasks. Hogwarts is not safe for him. Too many eyes and ears. And Miss Granger is the soul of discretion. We entrusted her with a Time-Turner. We can entrust her with him."

The Order? St. Mungo's? Hermione's worry deepened, instead of disappearing. Dumbledore rarely came to Sirius's house. She recalled only two occasions. Capturing Dumbledore's attention meant the stranger was important. St. Mungo's probably meant that the stranger was ill or wounded.

"It is not Miss Granger that I don't trust," McGonagall snapped.

"I trust him," Dumbledore said simply. "Has he not proven himself all these years?"

"Yes… But…" McGonagall gave up, "Well, all right, I've never liked him."

"Prejudices are the bane of our cause, Minerva."

As the professors continued, Hermione examined the unconscious stranger. He was in his thirties, although with wizards, it was hard to tell. Black hair, black robes, black shoes… His black eye lashes made a stark contrast to his pale face, which was thin and, Hermione could not help thinking initially, all nose. There was something severe and tense about his person, as though he must always be on guard, even while unconscious. As she took in the mouth that was drawn tight and the deep frown line between his eyebrows, Hermione felt compassion grow.

After McGonagall was obviously defeated, Dumbledore explained to Hermione that the man was part of the Order too. When Hermione asked why she had neither seen nor heard of him before, Dumbledore replied calmly.

"When he arrives here to give his reports, he Apparates into the meeting room so that none but the Order will see him. He uses a Silencing Charm on himself so that even Messrs Fred and George Weasley's Extendable Ears cannot detect him." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled knowingly, "They have tremendous talent and creativity." Then, he dropped the bomb without warning, "This wizard before you was a Death-Eater."

Whether or not Dumbledore had prepared for hysterics, Hermione was pleased that she did not react.

"He's in the Order now?" she asked.

"Yes. We can't tell you his name. In these uncertain times, the fewer people who know him, the better. You're clever enough to find it out, but I urge you not to. He works as a spy for us in front of Voldemort and his followers. Any hint that he is not altogether loyal to Voldemort will put his life in danger."

"Then… he's still a Death Eater."

"Only in appearance, only because I ask him to spy for us," Dumbledore persuaded.

"Did he kill anyone before?" Hermione blurted out.

Dumbledore's bright, blue eyes pierced hers, and Hermione recognised the amount of trust and responsibility he was placing in her.

"Miss Granger, whatever he was and whatever he did, his repentance is sincere. He puts himself up to a great deal of risks for our sake. It will be my fault if anything untoward happens to him."

And if they could not trust Dumbledore, who else could they trust? If Dumbledore said that the man was with them, then he was with them. As if he could read her mind, Dumbledore smiled.

"We need you to keep a vigil over him for the night. He was badly injured during an expedition, and Professor McGonagall only had time to find him and bring him to St. Mungo's to get the necessary treatment without alerting anyone."

McGonagall contributed, "He's an accomplished Potions Master, and made his own antidote before losing consciousness. Didn't trust the ones in St. Mungo's. He will wake up later at night but he will be weak. You'll feed him two drops of antidote every two hours, starting," she looked at the clock in the room, "from the next hour."

Understanding her task, Hermione tried to be calm. Looking at her charge, she remarked lightly that he was quite surly-looking.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"Oh yes. He's always surly, even when he was a boy." He gave Hermione a sideway glance, "He used to study in Hogwarts, so there's something else we all have in common."

After Dumbledore and McGonagall left, Hermione sat down on a rickety chair beside the couch and cupped the vial of antidote in her hands protectively.

It was going to be a long night, Hermione thought despondently. Turning her attention to the vial, she observed the clear green antidote swirling in it. There was a familiarity about the…

"Green for rebirth, a fitting colour in my condition."

Hermione looked up, startled, and was surprised to see that the stranger had shifted his position without her noticing. He was now half lying, half sitting on the couch, facing her.

A spy who moves in stealth.

He was observing her. Although he was weak and breathing heavily, he cut a striking figure. His first words were self-deprecating, but his demeanour, his tone all exuded arrogance and superiority. His eyes, not surprisingly, were black.

Green for rebirth perhaps, but also the colour of an Unforgivable and Mosmordre and…

"It's also the colour for Slytherin," Hermione pointed out instinctively.

He raised an eyebrow. His voice, she noted, was deep, silky and not unpleasant. "Hm, you are a Gryffindor, I take it?"

She nodded. She had not meant to make Slytherin sound like an accusation and felt apologetic. After all, not all Slytherins were…

"I am surrounded by dunderheads."

Hermione's guilt dissipated. She should be used to Slytherins' taunts by now. But those were students. To hear them from an adult was highly offensive.

The man, whom Hermione decided to mentally call S (for Slytherin and spy and silk and sarcasm, looked around him and his eyes rested on a faded tapestry. "So McGonagall has brought me to the Headquarters."

Hermione suppressed her anger. "Headmaster Dumbledore was here too."

"Indeed," Hermione noted the hint of surprise in his voice, before he continued sardonically, "Perhaps to see that his valuable asset is kept from unwanted eyes. How much did they tell you, Miss…?"

"Granger, Hermione Jean Granger. Erm, that you are a spy for the Order, and that you were a Death Eater."

"And remain one still. You are not frightened?"

"No," Hermione said firmly.

"That is your Gryffindor pride speaking no doubt. Yet you do not seem suitably outraged or morally superior to me either."

"Headmaster Dumbledore's a Gryffindor and he trusts you."

"Dumbledore is different," S snapped, "Sometimes, I think he puts us Slytherins to shame with his connivance."

Hermione frowned. Trustworthy or not, S was not a likeable person.

"You were studying my potion." S turned the topic back to the beginning.

"Well," she said, deciding to be civil, "There wasn't much else to do."

S smirked, "True." Staring at her, as though exploring her mind, he said, "For strength, for poisons, for peace."

Hermione blinked, and looked at the potion again. "Salamander, bezoar and moonstone," she answered confidently.

S nodded, "Those are the basics. Add the salamander, stir anti-clockwise twice. Next, add the bezoar, and stir clockwise twice."

"No, you have to stir it four times," Hermione interjected, "Otherwise the bezoar will not dissolve properly, and the potion will coagulate."

"Ah, a bookworm. Pity."

Hermione frowned again. The man had a way of rubbing her in all the wrong ways.

"You should learn to think more creatively. Stirring it four times will cause the bezoar to dissolve properly, but it does lessen its strength. So you add pomegranate juice afterwards to enhance the rate of dissolution."

He continued listing the ingredients, their properties and the process of making the potion, and Hermione's grudging acknowledgment of his intelligence gave way to complete admiration when he discussed about rare potions with her and the improvements he made to them.

It seemed she had impressed him as well, despite his initial disparaging remarks of her. S inquired about her studies in Hogwarts, and remarked that she had studied even more widely and diversely than he had when he was the same age as she. They moved to topics like Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. S was overly obsessed over the latter. It was dangerous, Hermione knew and she disapproved it, but she kept listening, fascinated by his wide knowledge and experience.

When the clock struck, Hermione was taken aback to see how rapidly time had passed. She quickly cast an Accio spell to get a spoon from the kitchen and pulled the stopper out of the vial. Under S's watchful eye, Hermione carefully added two drops of potion onto the spoon. When she brought the spoon to S, he grimaced and murmured that he had to depend on someone else whilst his hands were unsteady.

"Everyone needs help sometimes," Hermione said.

"I don't," S said haughtily, and Hermione ignored his childishness.

"I've Murtlap Essence for your wounds too, if you like."

"No, I don't need it."

She was surprised to be able to read his mood quite well. It was darkening at the reminders of his haplessness when he was fed the potion.

"What else did you add or do to come up with this green colour for the potion?" Hermione tried to strike up another conversation, "I should have thought the potion would come up orange, based on what you said."

S grunted and settled back against the couch, looking tired, "Yes, it took me quite a while to come up with the formula… Do you like it?"

"It's a beautiful shade." Hermione said.

A long pause, before a shadow of a smile flitted across S's face. He closed his eyes. Soon, he was asleep. This time, he appeared more relaxed.

But it's not Slytherin green, Hermione thought to herself. In fact it was not any green she could think of.

But it was so familiar.

**End of Part I**


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